Monday, September 29, 2008

"Man Listening To Disc" by Billy Collins

This is not bad --ambling along 44th Streetwith Sonny Rollins for company,his music flowing through the soft calipersof these earphones,

as if he were right beside meon this clear day in March,the pavement sparkling with sunlight,pigeons fluttering off the curb,nodding over a profusion of bread crumbs.

In fact, I would saymy delight at being suffusedwith phrases from his saxophone --some like honey, some like vinegar --is surpassed only by my gratitude

to Tommy Potter for taking the timeto join us on this breezy afternoonwith his most unwieldy bassand to the esteemed Arthur Taylorwho is somehow managing to navigate

this crowd with his cumbersome drums.And I bow deeply to Thelonious Monkfor figuring out a wayto motorize -- or whatever -- his huge pianoso he could be with us today.

This music is loud yet so confidential.I cannot help feeling even morelike the center of the universethan usual as I walk along to a rapidlittle version of "The Way You Look Tonight,"

and all I can say to my fellow pedestrians,to the woman in the white sweater,the man in the tan raincoat and the heavy glasses,who mistake themselves for the center of the universe --all I can say is watch your step,

because the five of us, instruments and all,are about to angle overto the south side of the streetand then, in our own tightly knit way,turn the corner at Sixth Avenue.

And if any of you are curiousabout where this aggregation,this whole battery-powered crew,is headed, let us just saythat the real center of the universe,

the only true point of view,is full of hope that he,the hub of the cosmoswith his hair blown sideways,will eventually make it all the way downtown.